


The Slytherclaw Debacle

by storyplease



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Beltane, F/M, Humor, Multi, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 17:53:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5937523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storyplease/pseuds/storyplease
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Author’s Note: Oh Corvus, what have you gotten me into this time? This is a story about Beltane, which is a pagan holiday all about new beginnings, fertility, marriage and other such things.  There were some constraints put on this writing, but I managed to write something that I actually think is kinda sweet in its own way.  Poor Hermione.  She can never win, can she?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Slytherclaw Debacle

 

******** “Hermione! Hermione Granger!” A winded voice was shouting at her from across the train platform.

 

Hermione looked up from the scone she’d been munching on somewhat greedily with a guilty expression.  She’d hoped that no one would notice her with her face stuffed full of freshly-baked buttery goodness.  She took one look at the owner of the voice and her body went rigid with anxiety.

 

_ Oh bollocks.  What is she doing here? _

 

It was a week before Beltane and the Ministry was busier than ever doing their best to prepare for the biggest spring holiday of the year. The business at hand involved sorting out permits for various large celebrations, fashioning PortKeys for larger venues, and all other manner of things.  Which meant that Magical Law Enforcement would be involved in all of the largest events.  As a trainee in the department, Hermione was not allowed any large assignments, but she had read all the books and done all of the field trainings. It was hard to watch the other seasoned officers signing up for enforcement beats.  She’d even gone and become certified to officiate at weddings on her nights off out of sheer boredom.  For the young woman who had brought about the end of one of the evilest dark lords in history, everything else just seemed far too easy. 

 

“Hermione! Wait up!”

 

Hermione glanced back and immediately wished that she hadn’t.

 

_ Damn.  She’s gotten taller and thinner and more beautiful than when we were in school, too. _

 

Cho Chang appeared behind the somewhat shorter bushy-haired woman, her cheeks rosy and expression breathless. Her hair, however, was perfectly straight, like satin darkness cascading down her back.

 

Hermione stashed her breakfast treat in its waxy bag and stuffed it in the pocket of her robes. She tried to master the look of undisguised envy that had twisted her normally quite genial features before finally turning around reluctantly to face the woman at last.

 

“Good morning, Cho,” she said, mustering her best  _ How May I Help You _ smile, “It has been a long time!  But I am in a bit of a hurry- you know, Beltane and all that! Sorry! Wish we could have talked longer! Goodbye now!”

 

“ _ Wait _ .”  A hand was tugging at her sleeve and Cho was looking down at Hermione with wide, pleading almond eyes. “I would not have come to you unless it were an absolute last resort!”

 

“Well, I see that your tact hasn’t improved any since school,” Hermione replied coolly as she reeled from the carelessly flung barbed statement. A traitorous part of her began to feel curious, which she knew was a very dangerous thing to feel indeed. “What exactly makes you think that I can help you, anyway? And just so we’re clear, I am not promising you anything, I am merely satisfying my own curiosity.”

 

Cho smiled, seemingly blissfully unaware that Hermione had flung back a veiled insult of her own and thrust an obnoxiously large diamond engagement ring into Hermione’s face.

 

“Isn’t it  _ lovely _ ?” she nearly squealed with delight. “Greggy popped the question last night! I could just sing from every rooftop in London with the joy of it!  Anyway, he’s a sweet young man and the absolute perfect fiance, but he has absolutely no sense of timing,  _ really _ ! I was just on my way to the Ministry this morning to see if there was anything I could possibly do to secure an officiant for our wedding. It must, must,  _ must  _ be held on the blessed day itself,  _ of course _ !  Legend says that couples who bind themselves on Beltane are favored in love! And after my terrible luck...you know...back in school, don’t you agree that it’d be a good idea to gather as much luck as possible on my special day?”

 

Hermione just stood, speechless, as though Cho had just confessed to having begun breeding Nargles for fun and profit.  Finally, she had the sense of mind to pull her jaw shut. She rubbed her hands together in the brisk morning air before summoning all of her willpower to think of something to say to the inane drivel that had just erupted from the tall Ravenclaw’s mouth.

 

“And by ‘Greggy,’ you are referring to…?” Hermione asked, wincing a bit at the answer that was sure to follow.

 

“Why, Gregory Goyle, of course!” Cho answered, her eyes bright, “I just can’t wait to be Mrs. Cho Goyle! I’ve been hoping to be rid of my ghastly maiden name forever.  I mean, can you imagine?  _ Cho Chang _ ? I sound like some made-up character in a book!  Don’t you think that Goyle just sounds…”

 

“ _ Mental _ ?” Hermione muttered under her breath.

 

“What was that?” Cho frowned slightly, which somehow only made her look more adorable.

 

Hermione couldn’t stand it. She wanted to vomit onto the clay-like mud that ran on either side of the gravel path from the station.  She couldn’t help but think about her own bushy, frizzy hair and widening backside (no matter how much she dieted and jogged) next to this woman who made beauty look effortless. It made her want to dig a hole and crawl into it forever.

 

“Uh...marvelous! Really!” Hermione said quickly, mentally cursing her two best friends for infecting her with their somewhat inappropriate sense of snark, “But I still don’t understand why you needed to talk to me. Surely…”

 

She went quiet at the somewhat delirious look on Cho’s face and inched closer to the edge of the path.  Increasing her pace didn’t seem to do anything, as Cho’s long legs effortlessly kept up with her stocky short ones.  Hermione began to feel like a particularly ugly bulldog in comparison to Cho’s well-coiffed image.  Even her robes fell on her body in a way that accented her shape in an immensely pleasing manner.  Hermione was lucky if her robes didn’t give the impression that her body was a lumpy sack of potatoes. She’d refrained from purchasing brown robes for this very reason.

 

Meanwhile, Cho was still talking excitedly, obviously off in her own world.

 

“...and then I’ll ride down the aisle astride a huge, white charger with flowers braided into his fine mane, and-”

 

“Wait,  _ what _ ?” Hermione said again, forcing herself to focus on something other than her gloomy thoughts.

 

“Why, when you officiate my wedding this Beltane, of course!” Cho said with a grin, linking her arm around Hermione casually, which pulled Hermione into an awkward stance seeing that Cho was at least a foot taller.

 

“But I never-” Hermione went silent as Cho’s eyes filled with tears, and her lip quivered ever so slightly until her face transformed into one of utter despondence.

 

“Without you, everything will be ruined! Everything!” Cho cried, startling a wizard that had sped up to pass them on the left. “I just can’t bear to think how distraught poor Greggy would be if I had to tell him that we needed to wait to an entire year to tie the knot!”

 

Hermione was fairly doubtful that Gregory Goyle was capable of feeling distraught, but she could feel her resolve weakening.

 

“I’ll think about it,” she said, finally, nearly falling over when Cho thrust her arms around her body and squeezed the life out of her.

 

“OH THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!” Cho gushed, “You really won’t regret it!  I promise! I’ll make it worth your while, too, Hermione.  Both Greggy and I have a lot of money and we need someone reliable to both officiate and monitor our party afterwards so that everything will be absolutely perfect!  Oh, that reminds me, you do have the certification to officiate weddings, right?”

 

Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose with exasperation.

 

“You mean you asked me to officiate your wedding, after getting engaged only yesterday, and you  _ didn’t even know if I could legally do it _ ?” Hermione replied incredulously.

 

For the first time, Cho looked a little embarrassed as she drew back from her soul-crushing hug.

 

“Is it a bad thing that I saw you and immediately thought that you’d be easier to convince since you actually know me from...before?” she asked softly, her eyes downcast at the gravel path. “Plus, I follow you...in the Prophet, I mean! I know that you can’t take everything they write with more than a grain of salt, but still.  I read between the lines and...you look good, Hermione.  You really do.”

 

Hermione snorted involuntarily and cocked an eyebrow back at the dark haired Ravenclaw, trying to figure out if Cho was simply blind or if she was trying to subtly insult the bushy-haired Gryffindor.  She wondered if Cho still held a grudge for the incident where her good friend Edgecomb had been permanently branded a  _ SNEAK _ .

 

“Well...thank you...I think...” she finally managed, trying to think positively. It was quite possible that Cho  _ was _ actually blind or at least near enough to it, seeing as she had no problems with Goyle’s tall, gangly frame and thuggish, hatchet-like face. “In any case, you’ll have to go in and pick up the forms at the Ministry.  You can get them in the Records division. I’ll let you know by tomorrow evening if I can do it, so don’t go thanking me just yet.”

 

Cho’s face lit up so brightly that Hermione became somewhat alarmed at the thought that she might discharge excess magic around them both out of sheer elation.  Her supervisors would not like that one bit, and would bury Hermione under the paperwork to prove it. Hermione shoved out a hand just as Cho’s arms flew out to scoop her up in another insufferable hug.

 

“You really ought to save your energy for planning your special day,” Hermione said reasonably, “After all, I hear that planning a wedding can be exhausting.”

 

“You’re absolutely right!” Cho replied, her eyes shining with resolve. “I will await your reply by owl, then, Hermione!”

 

And with that, she lengthened her strides and easily pulled in front of Hermione, who had begun to huff and puff just to keep up. Suddenly, Cho turned around again and walked backwards, facing Hermione with a curious look on her face.

 

“Say,” Cho said, puzzled, “Why exactly are you walking to work instead of using the Floo or Apparating like everyone else?”

 

Hermione could feel the color rising in her cheeks.  

 

“Er...well...I grew up in a Muggle household, so this is just...more comfortable for me,” she replied, trying to sound sure of herself.

 

“Oh! All right then!” Cho said brightly, “Ta-ta, then!” 

 

And she sped off ahead of Hermione with a flourish of shiny black hair dancing like a dark cape behind her.

 

Hermione pulled something from her robes and groaned.

 

“Ugh,” she said, puffing her cheeks with disappointment, “How could that have  _ only _ been 435 steps? That’s practically zero calories burned!”

 

And with that, she tucked the pedometer back into her robes with a somewhat defeated slump to her shoulders and continued on her way towards her workplace.

* * *

 

It had been a perfectly beastly end to a perfectly beastly week.  Not only had she’d been up to her eyebrows in paperwork while everyone else went out and actually did useful, interesting work, but she had also found herself most unceremoniously dumped, replaced by another witch and on her own again.  Moving back into her childhood bedroom had been a harsh blow to her self-esteem. She coped by shutting herself away under a blanket with plenty of ice cream and television to dull the pain. It still didn’t do much in the way of helping her feel better about any of it. So when she awoke on Beltane morning, her stomach gurgling evilly from the amount of sugar she’d consumed the night before, she’d nearly screamed when she saw the big red reminder circled on her calendar.

 

_ That’s right.  Cho’s perfect wedding to Greggy. _

 

She rubbed her bleary, stinging eyes and tried to ignore the horrifying hedge that her hair had decided to morph into while she was sleeping.  She had less than an hour to get as ready as magically possible and Apparate to the wedding venue.  Pulling her Charms book from the bookshelf, she placed small bookmarks on the needed pages and then stumbled off to the bathroom for a much-needed shower.  

 

Half an hour later, Hermione found herself landing very ungracefully on her rear end in the middle of a sheep paddy.  She swore as she realized she’d fallen arse-end onto a particularly large pile of sheep dung and  _ Scourgified _ herself as best she could.

 

She was beyond thankful that she’d worn her most severe, official-looking black robes that day.

 

Her hair was pulled back from her face and braided tightly down her back, which had taken her ages, even with the charms and a whole bottle of Sleekeasy’s Shampoo.  She didn’t look bad, she decided, but she could look many times better.

 

_ Oh well, it’s not like I have anyone to come home to except for my parents and the cat, and none of them care about the state of my arse. _

 

She had to climb over a fence, snagging the corner of her robes and nearly falling on her face, before she reached the huge tent and gaudy ceremony chapel complete with stage.  Hermione nearly gagged when she saw the charmed cherubs flitting about the white wicker stage.  It had Flitwick’s charm work written all over it, though she supposed that Cho may have gotten the spell from him. He had been her Head of House. A host of massive fragrant roses twined up the sides of the chapel, and Hermione could feel a headache working its way through the back of her head.

 

“Hermione!” squealed Cho, bursting out of the white tent in a giant, fluffy gown that made her look as though she were floating on a cloud. “So glad that you found it! I hope my directions weren’t too complicated!”

 

“Oh no,” Hermione replied, “I just landed in the field just west of here, so I had to walk a bit.  I think I overshot it, to be honest.”

 

“Well, you did say last time that you liked getting a bit of exercise from time to time, being a Muggle and all,” Cho said sweetly. “So, I guess everything worked out in the end.  Did you receive the list of vows and other assorted ceremony information in my letter?”

 

“Yes, indeed,” Hermione replied, pulling a thick roll of parchment from the sleeve of her robes.

 

“Oh, this is simply  _ marvelous _ !” Cho gushed, turning with a wave. “I have a couple more things to attend to--never a dull moment when you’re a bride, you know?”

 

“No, I don’t know, and the way things are going, I never will,” Hermione muttered darkly under her breath.

 

“What was that?” Cho said, turning back, her fingers knitting together expectantly.

 

“I said, I don’t know...er...where I should go to for the ceremony,” Hermione said sheepishly, looking down at her muddy boots.

 

“Oh, you can just wait in the little chapel!” Cho replied with a laugh that implied that Hermione was an idiot. “There’s even a podium where you can put your notes. We’ll be starting things in about fifteen minutes, so don’t go anywhere!”

 

“Understood,” Hermione replied irritably, resolving to add a couple of zeroes to the bill for her services.

 

The ceremony wasn’t terrible, all things considered.  Hermione balked a bit at the part where she had to sing a short song while the bride and groom had their hands bound together in the traditional manner. Thankfully, in the end, she managed to stay on key (even with best man Draco Malfoy smirking at her the entire time.) Before she knew it, the two were married and the ceremony was over.

 

Everyone headed to the large tent to begin the reception, but Hermione had other things on her mind.  Slipping out of the official wedding sash and shrinking it so it would fit into her pocket, Hermione pulled out her wand and began casting Sobriety Spells around the outskirts of the wedding venue.  It wouldn’t do for reveling party guests to Splinch themselves or accidentally cast magic in front of horrified Muggles.  She then added standard Anti-Apparition wards just in case there were any jealous exes or ne'er do wells waiting to crash the wedding itself.  She’d just finished adding her favorite Auto-Scourgify spell, which would also clean the party guests of minor spills and stains on their clothing, when she heard a voice behind her.

 

“I didn’t expect to see you here, Granger.”

 

She turned and looked at him coldly.

 

“Malfoy.  What a surprise.  And by that, I mean not a surprise at all. It isn’t as though, what did Cho call him? Ah yes,  _ Greggy _ .  It’s not as though little  _ Greggy _ has that many friends, seeing as most of them are either in Azkaban or dead. My only question is why you appear to be neither.” 

 

Draco’s eyes widened and then narrowed once more as Hermione berated herself for allowing her inner snark to rear its ugly and amazingly rude head so easily.

 

“Wow, Goyle said you’d become a cold hearted bitch,” Draco replied with a lifted brow, “but I see now that he was understating the truth considerably.” Draco slicked back a strand of hair that had come loose from his temple. “Do you even have a heart anymore?”

 

“Go ask all of the people who seem to think that it’s perfectly fine to trample it. They’d be better judges than me.” Hermione replied, blinking back tears as she tested her wards.  She was glad she was facing away from him so that he couldn’t see her struggling with her sadness.

 

“Oh. Hey, I didn’t-” Draco’s voice softened a bit and Hermione could hear him coming closer.

 

She whirled around and gave him her best glare.

 

“ _ What _ ?” she spat. “You didn’t  _ mean _ it?  Just like you didn’t  _ mean _ to call me a  _ Mudblood _ ?  Face it, Draco, you’ve  _ always _ hated me and you’re  _ always _ going to hate me.  Don’t bother trying to be nice to me now, because it isn’t going to work, you hear?  I’m here doing a job, providing a service on my own time.  I would appreciate it if you didn’t get in my way.”

 

“That was uncalled for, Granger,” Draco replied, turning up his nose. “I was just trying to be friendly, and you nearly bit my head off.  Bloody Gryffindors.” 

 

“I could say the same for Slytherins!” Hermione hissed back, “And Ravenclaws!  I am beginning to think that Cho purposely set up this wedding just to get back at me for the Edgecomb incident!”

 

Draco snorted as he leaned against the side of the tent, his arms crossed.

 

“That’s a very interesting accusation, Granger.  I remember Edgecomb.  She still has to wear a glamour because of what you did to her.” Draco replied with a wicked grin. “I must say, I don’t have much compassion for a snitch.  Well, except maybe for the little golden one with wings.”

 

He pulled out something small and gold from his pocket, and Hermione watched as the little wings unfurled.  The magic was weak, so it merely fluttered a little above his hand before dropping down with twitching wings as though it was exhausted.

 

“I like keeping it around.  It reminds me of the good old days,” he said, staring at the tiny Snitch. “Well, in any case, it beats thinking about the bad ones.”

 

Hermione nodded silently, not trusting her voice.

 

“I know you don’t like me, but honestly, I don’t like all this Best Man and wedding stuff,” Draco said. He uncrossed his arms and tucked the Snitch back into his dress robes. “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to keep you company so that I can avoid having to give tearful speeches and other inane drivel like that. I promise I’ll be relatively quiet.”

 

“I have never known you to be quiet, Draco Malfoy, “Hermione replied, “Besides, silence is boring.”

 

“I thought that the term was ‘silence is golden’?” Draco replied with a smirk, “but you should know since it’s a Muggle expression.”

 

Hermione snorted and nodded. “You’re right.  But, in this case, it’s as boring as a Hufflepuff fistfight.”

 

Draco laughed at this and Hermione couldn’t help but chuckle slightly at her rude joke.  

 

“You know that there is no such thing as a Hufflepuff fistfight,” he replied, “They’re just a school legend.  Everybody knows that.”

 

“Yeah,” Hermione chuckled. “The closest thing they ever got to one was when two Hufflepuffs had a couple of tense words and then made each other cupcakes afterwards and shared them with the other people who had gathered to see the fight.”

 

“Make cupcakes, not war,” Draco replied mid-laugh, his eyes tearing up as he began to laugh even harder.

 

“All’s fair in love and baked goods,” Hermione replied, her eyes tearing up as she gave into the laughter as well.

 

A number of terrible puns later, at Hufflepuff House’s expense, they had begun to talk about what they’d been up to since the war had ended and many other things besides.  By the time Hermione realized it, her contracted time had five minutes remaining. She came to the somewhat shocked realization that it was actually rather easy to have a civil conversation with Draco Malfoy of all people.

 

“So, then,” Draco said, sidestepping a couple of drunken revelers on their way out of the tent, “It has been quite a nice evening.”

 

“Well, it is Beltane,” Hermione said, somewhat wistfully. “It’s supposed to be a day full of love and new beginnings.  You know, I was reading about Beltane all this past week to familiarize myself with all of the various customs. Did you know that in France, a jilted lover could lie in a field on May Day and pretend to be asleep?”

 

“Sounds like something a frog would do,” Draco replied, putting up his hands when Hermione glared at him for interrupting her. “Ok, ok, please continue.”

 

“Well, he’d pretend to be asleep in the field, as I said before,” Hermione continued huffily. “Then, if a girl came along and gave him a kiss, they would walk hand in hand back to their village and dance to signify their engagement.”

 

“Oh?” Draco asked, “and what happens next?”

 

“Well, they get married at some point, of course,” Hermione replied, the Know-It-All tone rising in her voice, “but the boy was referred to as the  _ Betrothed of May _ .”

 

“I see,” Draco said, stroking his chin with his thumb and forefinger. “I’m afraid I am not quite following your point. And besides, May Day morning is come and gone anyway.”

 

“Don’t you  _ see _ , though?” Hermione said, her voice going a little shrill. “It’s patently unfair! Only men have the option of becoming the  _ Betrothed of May _ !  I could lie in a field for every May Day until the end of the world and I’d never be kissed.   _ Never _ !”

 

“Is that what you want, though?” Draco asked softly, his eyes thoughtful. “For some random man to come along and kiss you?  For him to take possession of you like some kind of object without knowing anything about him?”

 

“Well...no...when you put it that way, it does seem kind of...antiquated.” Hermione replied sheepishly, “but from the lack of luck I’ve been having in the romance department, I suppose I could use all the help I could get.” 

 

“The only thing you’re going to get from lying in a field is a stuffy nose and a fever,” Draco said with a shrug, “but that makes me wonder…”

 

“What? What are you wondering?” Hermione replied, her curiosity beginning to eat a hole in her stomach.

 

“Well, let’s say you were lying in a field because you’ve decided this daft French custom actually holds some merit,” Draco said slowly, his voice growing softer. “Let’s say… Let’s say that someone did come along to kiss you.”

 

“And?” Hermione leaned closer, trying to hear him better.

 

“What...what if it was  _ me _ ?” 

 

He looked up at her, and she saw that his eyes had gone a most curious shade of silver.  They shone brightly as he met her gaze and held it.

 

“Hermione, the only reason I agreed to be Goyle’s Best Man is because he said that Cho had gotten you to officiate their big day.” He said, taking a step closer to her. “I had planned to be all sneaky and Slytherin about it, but knowing you and your Gryffindor tendencies, I think I’ve come to the conclusion that this is the best way to get my point across.”

 

“What...you mean...and...huh?” Hermione gaped and sputtered unintelligibly.

 

“The truth is, I can’t stop thinking about you, Hermione Granger,” Draco said, taking another step. 

 

Hermione could see that his leg was quivering, and when she looked up, she could see the trepidation in his expression.

 

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you when I read about you in the Prophet.  I couldn’t stop thinking about you when I happened to see you at the Ministry walking to the atrium with your nose in a book while I was visiting there with my father.  I couldn’t even stop thinking of you when Goyle told me about this stupid wedding and happened to mention your name.  I mean, can you believe it? He merely mentioned your  _ name, _ and I was lost!”

 

He took another step and suddenly, they were mere inches from one another.  Hermione could feel the heat of his breath as he tried to keep himself from hyperventilating.

 

“I’m not sure if I love you, Hermione,” he said, and she saw him summon his courage as he extended his hand out to grasp hers, “but I’ll be damned if I don’t at least make the effort to find out.”

 

Hermione went scarlet, the heat in her cheeks so bright and hot that she began to feel nearly feverish in the cool night air.

 

“ _ Hermione _ ,” Draco breathed softly, his other hand reaching out to gently stroke the side of her face, his mouth quirking up on one side when she nearly melted into his touch.

 

“Yes?” Hermione replied, nearly breathless herself.

 

“ _ May _ I?” he asked, his voice a mere whisper, his eyes half-lidded, “ _ May _ I kiss you?”

 

“Oh  _ yes, please _ ,” she whispered back, and she closed the distance between them at last, pressing her lips to his and marveling at the soft, firm warmth of his skin.

 

In the silence that followed, they danced as the fairy lights from the tent were released out of the top of the tented area per tradition, floating silently up into the sky until they were tiny points of light.

* * *

 

They didn’t end up spending the night in the field, but by the next morning, they both realized that regardless of their past, they both wanted a future together. They both tried to go slow, but it was a futile gesture at best.  Within a month, they’d moved in together, and by the next Beltane, Hermione had a far less fluffy but just as white dress of her own to wear.  When asked why she wanted such a short ceremony to bind herself to her beloved, she answered:

 

“We were already bound the moment we kissed that first time- this is just a ceremony for the benefit of our friends and family.”

 

And so it was.

 

Many years later, they would both recount the tale, often adding so many extra things to make themselves look better that one would have to correct the other with a smirk.  But it was good-natured fun, and they loved each other fiercely. And, as their children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren all knew, it was a love for the ages and one that was not to be taken lightly. 

 

For in the end, Hermione finally found love in the most unlikely of places, which goes to show that even in the most unpleasant of times, there can be moments of great joy. And sometimes, all it takes to get to a happy ending is to muddle through times of pain and strife until they finally pass.

 


End file.
